{"id":7433,"date":"2013-10-31T11:08:20","date_gmt":"2013-10-31T15:08:20","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=7433"},"modified":"2026-07-29T14:47:07","modified_gmt":"2026-07-29T18:47:07","slug":"mama-died-today","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/?p=7433","title":{"rendered":"Mama Died Today (by southplains)"},"content":{"rendered":"

Summary: \u00a0<\/span>A Cartwright son’s short life story.<\/p>\n

Rated:<\/span>\u00a0K \u00a0WC 774<\/span><\/p>\n

Mama Died Today<\/strong><\/p>\n

Mama died today. Or yesterday, maybe. I don\u2019t know.<\/strong><\/p>\n

I don\u2019t really understand the concept of time, though I\u2019ve heard the word often enough the last few hours.<\/p>\n

From my mother. \u201cLet\u2019s head home, little one. I do believe it\u2019s time to let your father know about you. Yes, I\u2019ll tell him tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n

From my father, after the horrible screams from the horse died away. \u201cHold on, darling. The doctor will be here in no time.\u201d<\/p>\n

From the doctor. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry, Ben. There just wasn\u2019t time\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

And again from my father, over and over again, in a voice so wracked with rage and grief that the memory of it makes me shiver even now. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t her time. For God\u2019s sake, it was\u00a0not her time!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Time, for me, is meaningless. We are simply\u2026here. Well, not exactly here, not in the way we were in those frighteningly cold moments just after the horse fell. We are drifting away, Mama and I, on our way somewhere else\u2014someplace other than\u00a0here<\/em>\u2014 and we will be gone very soon, but we can\u2019t quite let go. Not just yet. My father and brothers are hurting so terribly. Their pain is an invisible tether holding us near to them. So we stay close, so close that I am sure they would see us if they only looked.<\/p>\n

But they don\u2019t look. My brothers stand a few feet away from the new grave, shoulders hunched in misery against the light rain that has begun to fall. My biggest brother, wide face creased with grief, holds tight to the littlest one, wrapping his great arms about him as if to protect him from the cold and wet. My oldest brother, the one with the serious eyes, hesitantly approaches my father, who sits at the grave with his head bowed so low his hair brushes the tombstone.<\/p>\n

\u201cPa, it\u2019s time to get Little Joe home,\u201d he says softly.<\/p>\n

Time to get Little Joe home.\u00a0Time.\u00a0<\/em>\u00a0There\u2019s that word again.<\/p>\n

Right now it doesn\u2019t appear to have any meaning for my father, either. He doesn\u2019t seem to hear anything that\u2019s being said. He doesn\u2019t see the wretched looks my two oldest brothers give one another. I know by watching him that he doesn\u2019t even feel the cold rain. He just sits there, staring at the freshly turned earth at his feet.<\/p>\n

I watch the little one shiver in the big one\u2019s arms, and I suddenly wish I\u2019d had the chance to play with him. We would\u2019ve had great fun, he and I. Somehow, I know that.<\/p>\n

And somehow Mama knows what I\u2019m thinking. \u201cYes, you and Little Joe would have made quite a pair! But no matter. You\u2019ll meet him soon enough,\u201d she says, and smiles gently. \u201cHoss and Adam, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd\u2026\u201d \u00a0I remember the name my brothers use for our father. \u201c\u2026Pa?\u201d<\/p>\n

She nods, and her smile grows wistful. \u201cAnd your pa. We\u2019ll all be together sooner than you can imagine.\u201d<\/p>\n

I frown, studying the red-rimmed eyes of my older brothers and the tear stains covering my youngest brother\u2019s cheeks.\u00a0 The way my father seems\u2026broken.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf we\u2019ll be together soon,\u201d I say, \u201cwhy are they so sad?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mama looks at my father. For just a brief instant she looks as sad as he does. She hesitates, and stretches a hand out toward him. But then she shakes her head, stops, and puts both arms around me instead. \u201cThey are sad because they don\u2019t understand how short time really is. On earth, years can seem to last forever. They don\u2019t know how quickly time truly passes.\u201d She smiles at me. \u201cBut one day, sooner than they can imagine, they will know what we know. Come now. We must go. It is time.\u201d<\/p>\n

The big golden horse Mama loves so has been grazing quietly nearby, all evidence of his fall wiped clean, the pain and fear gone from his eyes. Mama catches his mane and, holding me close, climbs onto his sleek back. She puts her heels gently to his flanks, and slowly, we ride away. I lay my cheek against Mama\u2019s soft neck, watching over her shoulder as my father and brothers disappear into the rainy haze.<\/p>\n

Mama died today. So did I.<\/p>\n

Time doesn\u2019t matter to me, but I will be glad when we can see Pa again.<\/p>\n

To tell him about me.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Disclaimer:\u00a0All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Summary: \u00a0A Cartwright son’s short life story. \u00a0<\/p>\n

Rated:\u00a0K \u00a0WC 774<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":65,"featured_media":5963,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"template-full-width-post.php","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2},"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_members_access_role":[],"_members_access_error":""},"categories":[23,1008,8,40],"tags":[425],"class_list":["post-7433","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-drama","category-family","category-short-stories","category-challenges","tag-doac","wpcat-23-id","wpcat-1008-id","wpcat-8-id","wpcat-40-id"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/05\/Moon-Blind.jpg?fit=640%2C480&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7433","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/65"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7433"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7433\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/5963"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7433"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7433"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bonanzabrand.info\/library\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7433"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}